


Don't You Listen?

by Parksborn



Series: The Life and Times of Peter Parker and Matt Murdock [9]
Category: Daredevil (Comics), Spider-Man (Comicverse), Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: ??? - Freeform, BDSM, Binds, But it's not bad trust me, Cock Ring, Dom/sub Undertones, M/M, Sexual Punishment, Slapping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-15
Updated: 2013-07-15
Packaged: 2017-12-20 07:56:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,864
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/884851
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Parksborn/pseuds/Parksborn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Peter can't seem to be quiet tonight, and it's grating on Matt's already tender nerves. "Punishment" ensues.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Don't You Listen?

**Author's Note:**

> Ahhh, yeah. Here have this thing.

They'd joked about it once or twice, thought about it a good few times, considered it seriously enough that they looked into it themselves and set up a few loose rules, but never got much further than that. Life had been busy, vigilantism didn't allow time off where they could allow themselves enough time or energy for it. Tonight, though, after a bit of an unsavory encounter with the Green Goblin, Matt was fuming for Peter's lack of tact and obedience—“But I _got_ him, Matt!”—and Peter was stuck trying to convince Matt that running off despite what the older man had told him was a good choice.  
  
“Matt—”  
  
“Shut up,” the older man growled, yanking his cowl off and tossing it to the side.  
  
“I'm _fine_.” Matt scowled at Peter, almost sizing him up, before he grabbed him by the neck, angrily crashing their lips together, shoving his tongue past Peter's lips, swallowing the surprised sound that escaped Peter's throat in his own. He pushed Peter back, the younger man stumbling just slightly, wrapping his arms around Matt's neck as his knees buckled and he fell against their bed, Matt still on top of him.  
  
Matt's hands slipped under Peter's top, shoving the piece of spandex up, before Peter helped him yank it off. “Matt—” Peter started, breathless from the kiss, as Matt took both of his wrists and pinned them above his head. The hold was tight, but not enough to hurt.  
  
“Shut up.”  
  
“But—”  
  
“I said,” Matt growled, bringing his knee between Peter's thighs, putting pointed pressure against the younger man's crotch. “Shut _up_ ,” he muttered against Peter's skin, catching the skin at the junction of Peter's neck and shoulder in between his teeth, biting until Peter gasped. He kissed at the bite mark, listening to Peter's heartbeat pick up and skip as he continued to put pressure on the younger's crotch. The boy's hips twitched up, aching for friction, and Matt's free hand caught Peter by the hip, pushing him down, keeping him still.  
  
Peter whined.  
  
“Your disregard for authority is getting _old_ , Peter,” Matt murmured, kissing up Peter's jawline.  
  
“Matt, wha—”  
  
“Did I give you _permission_ to speak?” Matt growled, actually agitated, and gave Peter another bit to the neck before letting him go. “Against the headboard.” Peter hesitated before complying, and Matt followed, but only to get Peter's bottoms and boxers off before backing away again. Peter made an unhappy sound as Matt got off of the bed entirely, going over to his dresser, grabbing a few things from the top drawer. Peter's brows furrowed, unsure of what Matt had in his hands before the older man was grabbing his wrist and binding it to the bedpost. “Don't yank against it too hard, you'll break them,” Matt said, going over to bind Peter's other wrist. “Am I understood?” Matt asked, voice in a faux stern tone.  
  
Peter swallowed, nervousness blatant, and nodded.  
  
Matt frowned, and crawled between Peter's legs again, one hand going down to Peter's manhood, grasping it firmly. “Am I _understood_?”  
  
Peter choked back a gasp and mumbled, “Yes, sir.”  
  
Matt smiled. “Good.” He grabbed a black strip of silk, something Peter hadn't seen him bring out, from the nightstand, and brought it up to Peter's eyes. He wanted to say something, object maybe, but Matt must have known, and muttered, “Won't be too tight.” Peter nodded, and bit his lip. Matt paused, cupping Peter's lip, his thumb nudging the boy's lip out from between his teeth. “Everything alright?” he asked, voice gentle, softer.  
  
Peter took a moment to answer, shifting his wrists in his binds to test them, before muttering, “Yeah. Yeah, I'm good. Nervous.” Matt frowned.  
  
“You want to stop?”  
  
Peter shook his head. “No.”  
  
Matt nodded, slowly, before asking, “And you remember the safeword?”  
  
“Yeah,” Peter answered, still sounding nervous. “Klingon.”  
  
Matt chuckled, leaning back in and kissing at Peter's throat. “I hope you didn't just tell me to stop.”  
  
“I didn't,” Peter said. “W-we can... Yeah.”

Matt mouthed at Peter's pulse point, murmuring a quiet, “Okay,” before kissing down his collarbone to his nipples, then over his chest, hands brushing over the spots that make Peter squirm.  
  
“Matt—”  
  
“Shhh...” Matt shushed him, before continuing, and he knew Peter was hard, knew that he wanted it badly, so he stalled, felt the younger man's heartbeat thrum through his body, and smirked against his skin when Peter let out a whine, face scrunched up as he struggled not to make noise. Matt found the noises that _did_ slip out that much more delicious. Finally his mouth traveled over Peter's stomach, and when Matt's touch wandered low, Peter bucked. Matt popped him on the thigh, a harsh slapping sound resounding through the room, and Peter let out a barely contained whimper. Matt's hand stayed on the spot on Peter's thigh, rubbing gently, before he continued downward, kissing and mouthing at Peter's sensitive skin, listening to him struggle with his sounds.  
  
Matt grinned, mouth moving to Peter's length, pressing a firm kiss to the tip before mouthing it completely, causing Peter to buck again. Another slap to his thigh, and another whimper, and Matt slowly brought his head up, tongue running up Peter's length, putting pressure on the right spots, running over the tip before going back down, slow and leisurely sucking him.  
  
“ _Matt_...” Peter groaned, face flushed, heart thrumming, pounding against his ribs as he shifted, wrists twisting in his binds. “Please...?”  
  
Matt lifted off of Peter. “Was there a misunderstanding? Did I give you permission to speak?” he asked, expectant.  
  
Peter opened his mouth, voice unsteady. “N-no...”  
  
“Then don't speak,” Matt ordered, leaning completely away from Peter, all touch gone.  
  
Peter made an unhappy sound, but muttered, “Yes... Sir.” He shifted as he heard the familiar crack of the tube of lube being opened, anticipating.  
  
“Spread your legs,” Matt ordered, and this time Peter obeyed, Matt sliding in between them, two fingers covered generously with lube. He teased Peter's entrance, and, god, was the boy tight. Peter caught his bottom lip in between his teeth, trying his best to compress a groan. Matt smirked before pushing a finger in, causing Peter to gasp and tighten.  
  
“Matt—”  
  
The older man growled in frustration. “ _Don't you listen_?” he barked, agitation obvious, and removed his finger, and Peter shifted slightly, Matt's touch gone completely, and he couldn't tell what the older man was doing, but he heard the nightstand drawer open and close, and Matt's weight shift on the bed. His breath hitched as Matt's touch returned to his cock, but this time accompanied by cold metal and—oh, god, he could _scream_. “Are you going to listen to me now?” Matt growled into Peter's ear, and the ring, causing searing tightness, aching fullness, burned on his skin.  
  
“I'll listen, _I'll listen_ ,” Peter said, voice tight and desperate and about to crack, and, god, he'll get back at Matt for that.  
  
“Good,” Matt hummed, fingers going back to Peter's ass, fresh lube slicking them as one pushed inside, slower this time, and began to move in and out. Matt waited a while until deciding to seek out Peter's prostate, finding it almost immediately, pulling out and adding another finger, scissoring and slipping in and out. The steady rhythm soon picked up, Matt thrusting his fingers further into Peter, causing him to cry out, to whimper and moan as Matt's thrusts continuously aimed for his pleasure spot, making him tense but not go over the edge, the ring preventing that.  
  
Peter's entire body thrummed with need, aching and searing hot, and Matt's fingers, the ring, the teasing blowjob before that, it was all driving him wild, and he needed to come, he _needed_ to. But he couldn't, and he didn't necessarily _want_ to, the burning pressure in his stomach so much better. Soon Matt's fingers slipped out of Peter's ass, and the boy let out a whimper, a whine, a noise that begged for more, for Matt, for release, but not so soon. He heard Matt strip, fumble with what sounded like a condom, and then the cracking open of the lube again, and then Matt at his entrance.  
  
The older man didn't even wait, rutting into him to the hilt and then pulling back, slamming back in again, and then repeating the motion in slow, precise thrusts. “Talk to me,” Matt said, voice a little shaky, pulling out slowly, and then ramming back in. “Let me hear you.”  
  
Peter groaned, long and loud and full of need. “Matt, please—!”  
  
Slowly out, quickly back in, Peter hot and tight around him. “What?” he asked, breathy, voice husky as he thrust back in, rough but slow.  
  
“I need—” Peter whined, and he didn't care, he wanted--he _needed_ \--and Matt was making him _beg_. “I need to come, p-please let me— _nngh_ —!” He tossed his head to the side, cheek pressed against the cool wood of the headboard, as Matt rutted into him again, and, god, his mind was putty now.  
  
Matt grunted, finally picking up his rhythm, probably more for him than for Peter, his breaths gone ragged, hands on Peter's hips gripping tight, nails and fingers digging into flesh, bruising. “Matt, _please_ ,” Peter whined, and soon after, one of Matt's fingers hooked under the blindfold and tugged it down around Peter's neck, and Peter blinked up at Matt blearily, before Matt's fingers shakily removed the ring, and Peter gasped.  
  
“Better...?” Matt asked gruffly, still thrusting, ramming into Peter, taking and taking some more, head hung and breaths rough as he continued to rut. Peter tensed up, jerking at his binds, wanting to touch Matt, to pull him into a kiss before he came, every sensation made electric, the ring's sensitivity still rocking his body.  
  
He shuddered, coming with a groan, Matt still going, still needing his own release, and, with him hitting Peter's prostate, the younger man didn't exactly want him to stop. He felt himself tensing up again, faster, this time, overly sensitive, and, when Matt's hand came to his cock, his gratefully bucked into it, and then down onto Matt. “Mnhh... Matt,” he groaned. After a bit, he came again, tightening up around Matt, his strangled, tired cry choked off as Matt came soon after, groaning low in his throat.  
  
He stayed there, hunched over Peter, shaking through his orgasm, until his senses cleared, his head and radar were no longer fogged over. Peter stayed quiet, still breathing harshly, and could only imagine how his heartbeat sounded to Matt right then. Matt pulled out slowly and discarded the condom, before leaning up and untying Peter's wrists with shaky fingers. “You okay?” he asked, leaning down, brushing his lips over the corner of Peter's mouth.  
  
“Yeah,” Peter said, turning his head to catch Matt's lips with his own. He pulled back and broke the kiss soon after. “I love you,” he muttered tiredly, nuzzling Matt.  
  
Matt smiled, gentle and warm. “I love you, too.” He paused. “Stay here,” he said, before padding off to get a warm wet rag to clean Peter up, knowing that the boy would be too tired to shower that night.


End file.
